


Strays

by foxy_mulder



Series: Fighting Zombies, Falling in Love, and Other Dangerous Endeavors [2]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Angst, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Weapons, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-12 00:58:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10478481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxy_mulder/pseuds/foxy_mulder
Summary: Robbie Rotten, a post-apocalyptic mechanic, can't seem to stop taking in strays.





	1. Stingy

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in a different universe than SAMEL, where none of the characters know each other originally, and have all been living life in the zombie apocalypse for some time. 
> 
> TW for a lot of reference to child abuse in this chapter, and starvation

Robbie was certain he would find some nice abandoned gear. It was a mansion, they had to have some really valuable stuff, right? 

He stepped over the former residents of the place. They'd been there for at least a few days, from the look and smell of it. He pulled his scarf around his face and wandered through the kitchen. He took a few pans, but the smell of the rotting food combined with the dead people was a little much, and he moved on to other areas.  
There was some soft pillows, which he stuffed into his pack, some soft velvet pajamas which he would MOST CERTAINLY be wearing as day clothes( because really, it's the apocalypse, who cares,) and various small items like a Swiss army knife, wires and bits of machinery, batteries. He wandered upstairs and froze at the noise. There was a creaking coming from down the hall.  
He got out his gun; it made sense that zombies might still be here, looking for other food. A light shone out from the crack under a door. The noise still hadn't stopped.

The door was locked from the outside, oddly enough. Was a zombie trapped in there? He unlocked and opened the door. 

A little boy sat on the bed, swinging his legs back and forth and staring at Robbie like he was a god. 

"Do you have any food?" the kid immediately blurted. "... If you're allowed to feed me. Please."

_How long has he been in there for?_

Robbie felt his jaw tighten. Zombies didn't lock doors from the outside. A human had done this.

He handed the child a granola bar, which he snatched eagerly. Clearly he hadn't eaten in some time, he was scrawny and shaky, though he ate the granola with a delicacy and reserve common in royalty. He could actually be royalty, for all Robbie knew. It was a little ironic that he was starving here while the lavish kitchen rotted away outside, like...like a princess locked in a tower. Or something sadder, frailer. Robbie snapped himself from his thoughts.

"You've been in here how long? Who put you here?"

"I dunno. I'm grounded." He shrugged.

Grounded. Maybe his parents had intended to let him out, then, but were killed before they could? The thought eased him slightly.

"I'm taking you with me."

"What? No, my parents will be really mad."

Dead parents. He was going to have to explain that one sooner or later. Later, preferably. Or never.

"They're fine with it. Put this on your face." He gave him a cloth.

"What for?"

"The smell."

"Smell? Of what?"

"Don't worry about it."

They left through the back. The kid had to be carried, knees too wobbly to walk. He had to be 80 pounds soaking wet, so it wasn't too bad. What was annoying was the constant questions. 

"Where are we going, butler?"

"Not a butler. And we're going to my home."

"Why? You live in the mansion with us."

"It's safe there, and I'm not your butler. Just listen-"

"Hey, why do I have to listen to you? You're a butler!"

"No, I'm not." Robbie gritted his teeth. This kid was a headache. He would have to ditch him, maybe give him a little food and accidentally lose him-

"...Well, then why do you care if I'm safe or not?"

"What does that mean?"

"If they're not paying you, and you're REALLY not a butler, you shouldn't have to, you know. Deal with me."

"You're a little kid, it's my responsibility-"

"Responsibility. See, I knew you were a butler!"

"Not a butler."

"Also, I'm not a little kid."

"Shut up," Robbie said tiredly. "Or else....I don't know. Shut up."

Only noon and this day was hell. At least he had his pans and machine parts.  
The kid had gone quiet. Finally. 

 

He threw his pack down the hatch and carried the child down the ladder, depositing him on the couch.  
'In the bathroom, he made a plan. He had neither the supplies nor the patience to deal with having a kid around. So he would keep him for the night, feed him, and drop him off at the nearest gas station in the morning. That was the plan. He went over it in his head as he walked back to the couch. The kids head snapped up at the sound of his footsteps.  
He smiled tentatively. 

"My cable still works, if you wanted to watch something."

He didn't move, so Robbie plopped down beside him and surfed the channels himself. Nothing much was on. He glanced at the boy.

"What do you like, cartoons?" He still said nothing. He was talking earlier. Being a smartass, even. 

"You want dinner?"

The kid shrugged.  
Something was wrong if this malnourished little kid didn't want food. Robbie put on Spongebob and got up to make noodles. Maybe smelling food would change his mind. He boiled them and put the last of his (slightly moldy) sauce with it in two bowls and carried them to the couch. They clanked against each other as he set them down.

The kid still didn't move to eat, though he was clearly hungry, based on the way he was staring at the bowls. 

"Eat."

He shook his head.  
Robbie was quickly losing patience.

"What is it? Not fancy enough? C'mon, eat." The child just looked at him.

"Oh, does his highne-"

"Is this a trick?" 

Robbie blinked. "What? No."

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Yes it is. I'm going to take a bite and then mom's going to come in and make me spit it out. I'm not officially ungrounded. I can't have any food." he gestured to the noodles, still steaming.

Robbie wasn't sure how to handle situations like this. What would be the least damaging way to go about this?

"They're not coming here. I promise."

If this kid didn't believe him, he was going to be too afraid to eat ever again. Robbie silently regretted not killing the parents himself, if they were really _fucking starving him._

"Why aren't you mad at me?" The kid had tears on his face. Robbie was so out of his depth, here.

"Why would I be?"

"You told me to shut up, mister Butler." That was hours ago. Had the kid been upset since then?

Robbie placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Listen," he tried, "I'm not a butler. I'm not mad, and I will be very happy with you if you eat."

The kid hesitated before speaking. "Will you let me give you a hug if I do?"  
_Oh, fuck, what'd they do to this kid._

"Of course."

The kid scarfed the noddles down with none of his previous grace, then held out his hands expectantly, nervously. Robbie wrapped him in a soft hug, scared to break his little ribs. 

"I'm Stingy, by the way," the kid said, with a hint of smartassery back in his voice (thank god.)

"Robbie. Pleased to meet you."

He laughed, and Robbie felt the little shakes vibrate through his chest. 

Maybe he'd take care of the kid- Stingy- for a couple days longer than planned.


	2. Trixie and Ziggy

"And who the hell are you?!"

He chuckled at the childs language, then quickly sobered, noticing the gun gripped in the chubby hands.

"Hey, listen-"

"N-no, you listen! You can't steal from us!"

"Us?" Robbie glanced around the flat he'd broken into. There didn't appear to be anyone else besides him and this chubby blonde kid. The baby nodded.

"My sister will be back soon." _Sister._ Probably older, if the clean and well-managed state of the child was anything to go by. And the fact that he had a gun.  
Robbie needed to get out before she came back. He yawned and stretched quite convincingly, discreetly reaching for his back pocket. The child wouldn't shoot him, not on purpose. His fingers caught hold of the knife and the kid frowned.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you."

Robbie chuckled. "Why? You won't shoot me."

"Trixie will, if you hurt me."

He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a loud banging and shuffling at the door. A bruised, chubby girl who couldn't have been more than twelve stumbled into the room, arms full with a huge sack of food. She took sight of Robbie and her eyes narrowed.

"A guest, Ziggy?"

"No! He was trying to steal our stuff!"

She sighed and looked tiredly to Robbie. "Wouldn't have happened if you locked the windows like I told you."

"But-"

"Look at him!" She poked his stomach and he twitched. "Can't get by on his looks alone, can he?"

"Hey!" Robbie squawked. 

"He was gonna kill me, Trixie!"

She turned and gave Robbie a sharp look. "Were you?"

"No, I thought the place was empty."

She nodded and stuck out a hand.

"Stay for dinner?"

He shook his head. 

"Sorry, I have to be getting home, I have-" should he mention Stingy? Probably not. "-things to take care of."

He wouldn't have been able to sit through dinner without feeling guilty, if he stayed.

"Like what?"

"None of your busine-" She pressed a knife to his stomach. "I've got to bring back food to a kid. Back off with the knife, don't you have any manners?!"  
This was why he hated kids.  
She shrugged and pulled the knife back. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "We just don't get a lot of company, y'know?"

Robbie was not a sappy person, but her lip was trembling and he hated when people cried and _shit,_ he was really going to do this, wasn't he.

"You two can come to my place for dinner, if you want." 

She brightened. "Okay!"

The Ziggy boy sighed. "This isn't a trick, is it?"

 _What was it with kids and tricks?_ Honestly, though, he would be suspicious too. A strange man broke in and offered to take them home. He could kind of see where they were coming from, there.

"No. You two have food, and I'm just hungry." And a little worried about them, honestly. Robbie wasn't at all fond of children, but they didn't have shoes, and where the hell were their parents, anyway? It was kind of stressing him out. Having dinner couldn't hurt, he could ask a few questions, make sure they were really going to be okay on their own, and they'd go on their merry way, never to poke him with knives and grubby little hands ever again, happy ever after. Plus, it was a free dinner, and he was fresh out of noodles.

Ziggy still looked nervous.

"Here." He took out his gun, and Ziggy flinched while Trixie flicked her blade out again. Robbie slowly set the gun on the ground, followed by his throwing knives, his other knife, his Swiss army knife, his other gun (a bluff gun, it didn't actually work), his wrench, and his screwdriver.

"Can you trust me a little bit now?" Robbie asked. Ziggy nodded dumbly and Trixie just laughed.

"I like you, guy."

"Robbie."

"Okay, _Robbie,_ lead the way." She gathered the crumpled sack into her arms and they headed out the door.

"Clear night."  
"Yeah, I've only seen, like, two zombies today."  
"Oh, I meant the sky."  
"Oh."

They arrived at the bunker and Ziggy had to be helped down the hatch, legs to short to reach the ladder rungs.   
Stingy practically fell over himself to greet them.

"You came back!" He sounded disgustingly thrilled and shocked... that Robbie came back to his own house. The child was truly an enigma.

"Yeah. And I got food."

Stingy glanced between Trixie and Ziggy, unimpressed. "Um, Mister Butler, no offense, but I can't eat a perso-"

"He doesn't mean US, stupid," Trixie huffed, and shook the bag. "Bread, fruit, and candy."

Ziggy and Stingys eyes widened. 

"And I'm still not a butler," Robbie pointed out.

Ziggy was drooling heavily. And it was dripping on the floor.   
Did children just live without any shame? Robbie wondered how it must feel, to be a drooling, mindless little blob. Horrible.

 _Better get dinner over with and get these little monsters out of the house_.

"C'mon, we can eat by the TV."

_"You have a TV?!"_

 

It didn't occur to Robbie until after the two had left that he would have to return to their apartment for his weapons.

He considered doing it that night, and getting it over with, but Stingy was asleep on his shoulder, and he didn't want to wake him up.


	3. Stephanie

The wave was thick today. Robbie could hardly see which way he was going for the zombies piled around him. Days like this were just the _worst._ Trixie and Ziggy were at his bunker. He'd had to talk them into coming over again, because their flat was just not secure enough to be lived in right now, if he could break in that easily. The lock was rusted off the door, and the windows wouldn't shut all the way. So he was going to do a few repairs for them before letting them go home, and then hopefully never see them again. The Ziggy kid ate all his candy, damn him.   
But he needed to grab some supplies first. 

He trudged along, glad to have a thick rain coat and pants that the zombies couldn't easily bite through. This way, he only had to kill the ones that blocked his path or grabbed him, which... didn't actually lower the number a whole lot, because they all did that.

He finally reached the abandoned Home Depot. Well, not _abandoned_ , but pretty sparsely populated, these days. People had mostly looted it by now, especially him. He stepped through the shattered glass doors, followed by a flood of undead. There appeared to be some inside, too, which was odd- they usually only swarmed like this where there were living people. He searched the aisles for rust removers and tools. There wasn't much. He casually swung his bat while he searched, enjoying the satisfying crunch when it hit a zombies ribs. There really wasn't much. Robbie considered going home to see Stingy; he was a little worried Trixie would say the wrong thing and he would be back at square one with the kid. (Not that he was far from square one anyway.)

There was a shriek from the back of the store. Robbie dropped the bottle of glue he was holding and ran in that direction, before remembering that he was a cynic, and that it was a dog eat dog world. He picked the glue up again. So what if someone got killed, it was one less person to compete with for food, for supplies. The scream sounded again, shrill and piercing. It sounded almost like a kid. He couldn't just leave a kid, that was going too far. Right? But it was so inconvenient. Why did things always have to happen to him?

Robbie rolled his eyes and walked quickly- didn't run, walked quickly- to the growing group of zombies in the back. A pink haired child was in the middle, standing atop a shelf and looking ready to cry. She kicked at the hands reaching for her, and screamed some more. She was completely pink. How did she manage to find that many pink clothes?! Who let her dress like that? God, he hated children.

He watched for another moment, then a zombie managed to grab her shoe, and he snapped out of it. Robbie batted them down quickly enough and turned to the girl to help her down from the shelf.   
She wasn't up there anymore, though, having already climbed down to stand beside him. He blinked.

"You okay?" he asked. He moved to check her for injuries, but she sidestepped with a sour look on her face. 

"Yes. But I was okay without you, too." She huffed. "I can handle myself."

He raised a brow. "Oh, is that why you were yelling for help, then?"   
She blushed. 

"Where's your parents, kiddo? I don't have time to be watching out for you."

The kid shrugged. "My mom hasn't been back. I'm looking for her."

"Want any help?"

"I..." She hesitated. "she told me not to talk to strangers."

Maybe this kids mom really was alive. Maybe she really would find her. But certainly not in the state she was in right now, with no weapons, no skin protection, dressed in all pink for christssake. Robbie really didn't feel right about leaving her, but he needed to be getting back; Stingy got nervous when he was gone for long periods like this, and he'd promised to bring Trixie some wood to make a slingshot. He smiled a little thinking about it. The little girl stared at him, and he realized he still hadn't responded.

"Okay, I'll leave you alone, then. But take this." He shrugged off his rain coat and handed it to her, already regretting losing such a valuable thing. "Be safe, kiddo."

She rolled her eyes. He walked off, baseball bat in hand, hoping the swarm wouldn't be so thick on the way back. Without a coat, he ran the risk of bites. He wondered if he should go back again for the glue- it might not be there next time. No, not worth it, it was almost night. He walked across the broken glass again.

A hand grasped at his shirt and he swung the bat reflexively. The zombie let out an indignant squeak and oh, that was... not a zombie. He glanced back at the girl, wearing his coat and cradling her already swelling hand. Robbie felt a little bad, but it was her fault for grabbing his shirt without warning. She stood there, not saying anything.

"Did you need something?"

"I changed my mind. I'm coming with you."

His chest sank. Great, he was going to have another little stray child at his house. How wonderful. Well, at least he could get her into something other than that ratty pink thing, it didn't look warm enough for the weather. And she was too damn skinny. Why were all his kids so damn skinny?! He sighed.

"Fine, gimme my jacket back then."

She complied.

"Now hop up on my shoulders, I'll carry you."

The girl shook her head. "No thanks, I'll skip. I'm a good skipper."

And she was. She skipped all the way to his bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if stephanie is a little weird in this, she wants to prove she can do stuff on her own because she never had a chance to until her mother went missing. She can handle herself tho, have you seen her high kicks, like she was literally not joking about that


End file.
